Chapter 3 - THE UNMASKING
Margaret Hawthorne burst through the boardroom doors just then, her face contorted in rage, having been summoned by an emergency call from her son.
"Daniel! What is going on?!" Margaret shrieked, marching right up to me. "What is this trashy little gold-digger doing in our corporate headquarters? Have security drag her out of here immediately!"
None of the security guards moved. They all knew who signed their paychecks.
I didn't flinch. I turned my head slowly and looked at Margaret, remembering the arrogant smirk she wore while my three-year-old son struggled to draw his next breath.
"You called me a gold-digger yesterday, Margaret," I said softly, my voice carrying clearly across the silent boardroom. "It’s a funny word coming from a woman whose entire family has been living off my father’s estate for the last decade."
Margaret scoffed, crossing her arms. "Don't flatter yourself, girl. Your father was a minor-league investor who got lucky—"
"My father founded Sterling Global Capital," I interrupted, stepping closer to her. "The exact firm that currently holds the mortgage on this building, the deed to your precious Hawthorne estate, the title to your country club, and every single cent of liquidity your husband used to bail out his failing manufacturing plants."
Margaret’s jaw dropped. She looked frantically at Richard. "Richard... tell her she's lying. Tell me she's lying!"
Richard buried his face in his trembling hands, unable to meet her eyes. "She's not lying, Margaret," he whispered hoarsely. "Sterling Global... it's her father's company. We've been borrowing against her trust fund for eight years."
Daniel stared at me, all the color draining from his face. The cocky, untouchable master of the universe facade shattered completely.
"Victoria..." Daniel stammered, taking a step toward me, his hands raised in a pathetic plea. "Vicki, honey... please. It was a misunderstanding. Mom didn't mean to give Noah peanuts, it was an accident! We can talk about this at home, just... call off your lawyers. Please."
I looked at him—at the man who had ordered me to apologize for saving our son’s life, the man who cared more about social performance than his own flesh and blood.
"Home?" I asked, my voice devoid of emotion. "You mean the house that belongs to my trust? The one I’ve already put on the market this morning?"
May you like
Daniel stumbled backward, hitting the edge of the conference table. "You... you can't evict us. We're married!"
"Not for long," Arthur Vance said, standing up and handing Daniel a final set of papers. "And starting today, Daniel, you are formally suspended from your executive position at Hawthorne Enterprises pending a forensic audit of your expense accounts. You have two hours to clear your personal belongings out of your office."
